Nearly Always Your Own Fault
by Mousme
Summary: Crack AU. Danny has a secret he's been keeping from Steve from the start, but now that their relationship is progressing, it becomes impossible to keep.


Title: **Nearly Always Your Own Fault**

Summary: Crack AU. Danny has a secret he's been keeping from Steve from the start, but now that their relationship is progressing, it becomes impossible to keep.

Characters: Steve/Danny

Rating: NC-17

Wordcount: 5,101

Disclaimer: Still all the property of CBS. Nothing recognizable belongs to me. Playing with other people's toys and hoping they won't notice.

Warnings: Uh, not much. Do I even need to warn for sex these days? Crack.

Neurotic Author's Note #1: This is all **zortified**'s fault. I swear to God, I never would have thought of this all on my own, but once I saw the prompt I could not unsee it.

Neurotic Author's Note #2: Uh, this was meant to be really fluffy crack. Instead, it turned into kind of angsty crack. Sorry?

Neurotic Author's Note #3: I don't own a ferret. All my information is second-hand, so forgive me for any inaccuracies on that count.

Neurotic Author's Note #4: Unbeta'd, as usual. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

Steve likes to think he's not an insecure guy. He knows who he is and what he wants, and if what he wants has changed over the years, well, that's fine by him. Being the best at what he did topped his list up until recently, and if that meant locking down the part of himself that had maybe more than a merely aesthetic appreciation for members of his own sex, well, so be it. Now, though, Don't Ask Don't Tell is on its way to being history –even if the repeal hasn't been implemented yet and that means he still has to keep things discreet if he doesn't want to sabotage his career– and his career has been bumped down the list, right under 'Be With Danny.'

The fact that Danny is apparently on board with the whole gay love thing is a gift horse that Steve is choosing not to look in the mouth. After all, Steve wasted months telling himself that Danny had an ex-wife and kid and was therefore straight and would have no interest in him, a conclusion which turned out to be entirely wrong. It never occurred to Steve, even though it should have in retrospect, that Steve might not be the only bisexual man in this partnership. Granted, Steve leans a lot more towards the gay end of the spectrum than Danny does, as it turns out, but that doesn't appear to have stopped Danny from dropping to his knees and blowing him like he was trying to suck Steve's brains right out through his dick. To this day, Steve isn't sure he didn't succeed.

So he has no reason whatsoever to complain. He's got a new life here in the place he grew up, he's out of prison and Kono has her badge back. There's a new governor who not only isn't corrupt and trying to kill him, but agreed to leave the task force in place. He's got a team he both trusts and likes, and while Wo Fat isn't behind bars where he belongs, Steve figures it's only a matter of time before they get him. Steve's also got a partner who appears to genuinely care about him and his well-being, to the point of giving up a chance at reconciling with his ex-wife in favour of staying on an island he professes to hate so that they can be together. Life, as far as he's concerned, is pretty good these days. There's no reason to go borrowing trouble.

Steve isn't insecure. He never has been. Sure, there's been a little uncertainty in the last year or so, but it's no reason to worry unnecessarily about what might be going through Danny's head at any given moment. It's not like Danny doesn't speak his mind at length and at considerable volume, after all, and he hasn't given any indication whatsoever that he's unhappy with the way their relationship has been going. He seemed to accept early on that until things changed in the military, they would have to keep things discreet. In fact, he assured Steve more than a few times that it was perfectly fine with him, that he was willing to move at whatever pace Steve wanted to set. Except that Steve has never known Danny not to push for what he wants, and even though it's probably best that they don't move in together or anything like that, he's starting to resent waking up alone in his bed every morning, the only indication that Danny's been by at all a slight dip in the mattress and the smell of sex still lingering in the air. Steve is beginning to feel like he's Danny's dirty little secret, rather than the other way around. Not that that's how he thinks of Danny, or anything like that, because that's really not how it is.

Eventually he decides that he should just broach the topic casually. They're both adults, both mature enough to handle a situation like this without it getting all complicated. So he corners Danny by the coffee machine at work (well, Danny accuses him of cornering him, but really there are at least five different ways of getting out of the office kitchen if Danny really wanted to, so it totally doesn't count as cornering) and tackles the subject in the most off-hand manner he can manage.

"You know, you don't have to leave before I wake up."

Danny does a double take. "Come again?"

"You always leave before I'm awake. I just thought I would let you know you don't have to, if you don't want to. I know you like to sleep in."

Danny rolls his eyes. "You know, for a guy who wants to keep things quiet, you're going about this in a very public place," he sweeps his arm in an expansive movement to encompass the office and what looks like half of the island. "Okay, duly noted, I can do my walk of shame after you've had your morning swim."

"Is that how you think of it?" Steve asks, stung in spite of himself. He kind of wondered if Danny wasn't ashamed after all.

"How I think of what? Did you hit your head when I wasn't looking? There was that explosion a couple of days ago –I knew I should have checked you better for concussion…" Danny steps forward, one hand out as though he's about to start checking Steve for a skull fracture, so Steve hurriedly takes a step backward.

"No, I didn't hit my head! I just… you never stay, and we never go to your place–"

"Because my bed would not withstand your particular brand of energy, my friend," Danny interjects. "Let's face it, they don't make pull-out sofas like they used to."

Steve expels a sigh through his nose. "Okay, forget it."

He half-expects Danny to push, to demand what the hell is going on with him, and can't help but feel a small pang of disappointment when it doesn't happen. He tries to push the whole issue to the back of his mind, but annoyingly it keeps wriggling back into his thoughts in spite of the complicated cases they pick up. On the surface, things seem to be just fine, everything going exactly how it was going before. About half the time Danny ends up staying over at Steve's place, but he's always gone long before Steve ever wakes up. Steve has to hand it to him, he doesn't know how Danny manages to be so quiet when he gets out of bed and sneaks out, because as a rule Steve is a pretty light sleeper. But the bed is always cold and empty on Danny's side in the morning.

"You're seriously making an issue of this?" Danny's hands just miss actually hitting the roof of the Camaro the next time Steve brings it up.

"It's not an issue," Steve insists. "I just wondered."

"Oh my God," Danny pinches the bridge of his nose. "You were the one who was all about the discretion and the 'Don't Ask Don't Tell repeal hasn't been implemented yet.' Now you want to pick out china patterns?"

"No!" Steve manfully resists the urge to smack the steering wheel. "Jesus, Danno, is it a big deal if sometimes I don't want to wake up to find you've sneaked off again?"

Danny throws him a narrow-eyed look. "I don't know, Steven, you tell me. Is it a big deal?"

He huffs. "Never mind. I'm sorry I brought it up. I just thought maybe we could be on the same page about this for once."

"What the hell is eating at you?" Danny demands. "This isn't just about the fact that I'm not there for your morning blowjob, so let's have it. What is going on in that unfathomable mind of yours?"

"Nothing."

"Don't sulk, babe, it looks bad on you," Danny's tone turns softer, amused. "You look like I just murdered your puppy. Come on, you've brought this up four times now in various ways, each less subtle than the last. If you don't talk to me, how am I supposed to know what's wrong?"

Steve throws the car into park. If this were any other day they would already be heading inside for a beer, or for sex, or both. Instead he lets his hands drop into his lap, fiddles with his watch strap. "Never mind," he says again. "It's stupid. I shouldn't have said anything. I mean, this is good, right?" he motions vaguely between them. "You're still good with this?"

Danny frowns. "Of course I'm good with it. What makes you think I'm –oh." Steve can see the moment comprehension dawns on Danny's face. "Oh, babe, is that what you thought?" He grins, reaches over and hauls Steve in by his shirt to kiss him. "You goofball."

Steve feels his face heat up, and he ducks his head, rubs the back of his neck. Danny kisses him again.

"You really want me to stay the whole night, then?" Cheeks still flaming, Steve manages a nod. "My God, it's really hard for you to actually use words like a real boy, isn't it? Okay, Steve. You got it. You want me to stay, I'll make it work."

Steve isn't sure what the hell that's supposed to mean, but Danny is already out of the car and heading toward the house, and Steve kind of gets distracted watching his ass as he turns the key in the front door. After that he gets distracted again when Danny crowds him up against the wall and kisses him like he's trying to swallow Steve whole. He snakes a hand into Steve's cargo pants and jacks him until Steve's eyes roll back into his head and his knees practically give out before he's coming all over Danny's hand, and Danny bitches good-naturedly about getting spunk all over his good work pants. By the time they've had dinner and a couple of beers and Danny has him spread out on the bed, working him open with his fingers and tongue until he's writhing and panting and begging incoherently, Steve has completely forgotten about the strange wording, and even if he hadn't forgotten, at this point he wouldn't give a damn anymore anyway, just so long as Danny doesn't fucking stop what he's doing, ever.

Steve is kind of surprised he's still capable of rational thought after that, but it's a pleasant sort of surprise. He lets Danny clean them both up with a damp cloth, burrows contentedly under the bedclothes and waits for Danny to join him again. He swallows a pang of disappointment when Danny slides in next to him and immediately curls up on his side, facing the edge of the bed. It's not like Danny has ever shown any inclination toward cuddling up after sex, and besides, Steve doesn't cuddle either. He just thought that maybe, if Danny was staying, he wouldn't want to be quite so far away on the bed as to practically be hanging off the edge. He sighs a little bit, contents himself with watching the beautiful lines of Danny's back as he drifts to sleep.

When Steve wakens there's light streaming through the gaps in the blinds, and Danny is still there, lying on his side and facing Steve this time, head propped up on his hand, watching him with a hint of a fond smile on his face. Steve finds himself grinning up at Danny, and is rewarded when Danny's smile widens in return.

"Good morning."

"It's morning," Danny confirms.

"Sleep well?"

"Sure," Danny agrees, nodding, and Steve feels something twist a little in his chest, because he's almost entirely positive that Danny just lied to him.

"Coffee?"

"Please, God. I am going to need an entire pot if I'm going to have to start dealing with you this early in the morning on a regular basis."

Steve slips out of bed, feeling badly off-kilter. None of this is going how he thought it would. Then again, he tells himself that maybe those closely-kept fantasies of quiet, intimate mornings were a little much to expect of either of them. Right now, maybe the best he can hope for is for them to share a quiet cup of coffee, and he supposes that that can probably be good enough.

If he thought that Danny staying the night would change the weird feeling that there was something missing all this time, then now Steve is pretty much willing to admit that he was sorely mistaken. Danny might be there when he wakes up, but he might as well not be, as far as Steve can tell. It takes a few days before he notices that Danny doesn't actually sleep the nights he stays over, just lies next to him on the bed and stares at the window on the far wall, his back to Steve, until the sun rises over the horizon. He starts drinking more coffee at the office, drags his feet a little until he's able to go back to his own apartment to catch a proper night's sleep and comes back looking a little more rested. Steve toughs it out for a little over a week before the circles under Danny's eyes become too dark to ignore.

"You don't have to stay, if you don't want to."

Danny blinks, pausing on the edge of the bed where he was about to get under the covers. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Just… I don't want you to feel obligated."

Danny throws his hands in the air with an expression that suggests he is surrounded by lunatics on a daily basis. "What the ever-loving fuck, Steven?"

"Oh, come on!" Steve snaps, sitting up so that they can at least be face to face. "This is making you miserable. I don't know why and I don't know how, but I'm not blind and I'm not stupid, Danny. You think I haven't noticed that you stopped sleeping? I mean I can't… if you don't… if you're not comfortable enough to sleep here… What are you even doing here, Danny?"

Danny recoils as though Steve has just punched him. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again. "I thought you wanted this?" he asks, and Steve feels like a world-class jerk, because Danny sounds honestly hurt and bewildered, like he doesn't really understand why Steve is mad at him, and shouldn't their positions be reversed?

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything you don't want just to humour me. I'm not a delicate flower, Danno, I won't wilt if all you want from me is a casual fuck," he can't help the snarl in his tone, doesn't trust his voice not to break if he tries to talk normally. Fuck it, this is why he never tried for anything long-term before. It's never worth it when the other guys decide to bail on him.

"A cas– Steve… you…" Danny's stumbling over his words for the first time that Steve can ever remember. "That's not what I want."

"Then what? What the hell is so awful about this that means you can't even bring yourself to close your eyes when you're here? Is it that you don't trust me? What?" He's aware that he sounds desperate, but at this point he's stopped caring.

Danny shakes his head. "Of course I trust you. Hell, you're about the only person left in my whole stupid life that I trust apart from my parents, and they're three thousand miles away. It's because I trust you so damned much that I can't… God," he rubs a hand over his face. "I don't even know when this got so complicated. Would you believe me if I said this had nothing to do with you?"

"No."

That gets a sigh. "Fair enough. Look," Danny glances at the clock. "It's been a stupidly long week, and I'm exhausted and this is all going to come out wrong if I try to explain this now."

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Plenty of time if you want to explain it then," Steve offers, trying and failing to quash the flutter of hope in his own chest. Danny nods, his expression so grateful that Steve discovers that it actually is possible for him to feel even shittier than he was a moment ago, like somehow he's the one in the wrong here, even though it's Danny who's lying and sneaking off in the night. "You going to sleep, at least?"

For a minute Danny just stares at him, then he slips under the bedclothes and to Steve's astonishment inches his way until he's in the centre of the bed. He doesn't so much as twitch when Steve carefully puts an arm around his waist and pulls them together, feeling the tension slowly drain from Danny's body. "Yeah, I'll sleep," Danny says softly, and it feels like a promise.

It's the best night of sleep Steve's had in as long as he can remember. Danny is warm and solid in his arms, and even though he ends up moving away in his sleep at some point –Steve can tell without opening his eyes, because suddenly the comforting bulk of muscle is gone from where he was pressed up against his side– Steve knows he's still there, and that by itself is reassuring enough to let him sink back into sleep.

For the first time in years Steve sleeps long past the time he'd normally be getting up, and the room is bright with the glow of morning sunshine when he finally opens his eyes, blinking a little to rid himself of the remnants of sleep. He looks around for Danny, frowns faintly when he doesn't see him. The bed is empty but somehow it feels different, slept in, a lingering trace of warmth near his chest. It's only when he glances down that he catches sight of a small bundle of tawny fur curled up in a tight ball next to his chest, catches a glimpse of the tip of a pink nose, a twitching tail.

Steve is not a man who startles easily. On the other hand, coming nose to nose with what appears to be a large sleeping rat in your bed would be enough to put anyone off his game. He comes off the bed with a yell of surprise, upsetting the small golden bundle which goes flying off the other side of the bed with a startled hiss and scrambles away across the bedroom floor, backing up until it's wedged in the far corner of the room between the wall and his dresser. His heart still hammering painfully against his ribcage Steve reaches for the baseball bat that he keeps propped up in a corner of the room ever since his house got broken into last year, and gingerly steps forward to investigate.

It's a ferret.

Actually, what it is, is a very pissed-off ferret. It hisses and stamps its feet at him, bouncing on the spot and baring very small, very sharp teeth at him, reminding him very forcibly that he is stark naked and that he wants nothing to do with a creature with both teeth and claws anywhere near his unprotected junk. He leans back, snags his pants from where they got tossed on the floor the night before –he really needs to talk to Danny about putting their clothes away properly after sex– and tugs them over his hips, putting the bat down in the process. The ferret watches him, but it stops doing its little war dance right up until he moves toward the bat again, at which point he gets rewarded with another bout of hissing.

"Huh," Steve says, looking at it consideringly. "Pretty smart, aren't you?"

The ferret stares at him.

"Danny?" Steve calls over his shoulder. Not that he needs backup dealing with an overgrown rodent, no. He just wants to make sure Danny hasn't left. Yeah. "You still here? Did you see how this ferret got in?"

There's no response, but the ferret bobs up and down and keeps staring at him in a really unsettling fashion.

"That's really creepy," he tells it, feeling a little foolish. He's obviously not going to use the bat on it now. It's very clearly a tame ferret, which means he's going to have to have a very stern talk with one of his neighbours about owning illegal pets and letting them loose in the house where they can escape and invade other people's houses and sneak into their beds at night. "You can't stay in that corner forever, you know. I don't suppose you're friendly, after all that?"

He doesn't know anything about ferrets, except that they're supposed to be very curious. He bends over, rubs his thumb against his fingers in a classic here-kitty-kitty motion, and is pleasantly surprised when that apparently gets the creature's attention. Danny hasn't made an appearance, but Steve doesn't want to risk yelling again and startling the ferret before he's got it safely stowed away somewhere. He narrowly avoids having to make kissy noises in order to entice the ferret closer. It creeps along the floor, eyeing him closely, sniffs gingerly at his fingertips, looks a little disgusted when it turns out that he is not, in fact, proffering food for its consumption, then in a blur of movement it darts right past his hand, sticks its nose under the cuff of his cargo pants, and proceeds to start climbing his leg, aiming right for the spot he was hoping to avoid ever coming into contact with a ferret in his whole life.

"Hey, whoa!" he flails, grabs at his knee before the ferret can get to Ground Zero, shakes his leg until the animal falls to the floor with an indignant thump. "Bad ferret!" he says sternly, then without thinking reaches down and simply hauls it into his arms.

Immediately the ferret twists and squirms in his grasp, then swarms up his arm and ignores his further flailing in order to wrap itself around his neck, making what he thinks might be a contented sound –something in between a purr and a cluck. Whatever it is, it's weird, but at least it's not trying to become intimately acquainted with his crotch anymore. Carefully he makes his way into the bathroom, then unceremoniously plunks the animal in the tub.

"You can stay there until I've figured out what to do with you," he says, already clearing what few stray toiletries he has and putting them in the medicine cabinet. He's heard enough horror stories of ferrets to know that he needs to keep whatever he doesn't want destroyed out of its way. The toilet paper might be an issue, but he's willing to deal with the loss of a roll right now. "Stay put while I make some calls and find Danny, not necessarily in that order."

He shuts the door behind him, wondering just where the hell Danny's got to. After all, there's no way he didn't hear the commotion –Steve will be lucky if the neighbours two houses down didn't hear it. There's no sign of him outside, but his car is still parked outside, which means he hasn't left. Mystified, Steve heads back inside just in time to hear the tell-tale sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. Crap. Danny is about to find himself with a faceful of ferret and Steve knows that he is never going to hear the end of this, as though it's somehow his fault that some runaway ferret literally weaselled its way into his bed –pun fully intended.

"Danny?" he takes the stairs two by two.

"Yeah?" Danny's voice is coming from the bedroom, halting Steve in his tracks.

He changes course, finds Danny sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on his boxers. He stops in the doorway, looks at the still-closed door of the bathroom, looks back at Danny, and can't make any sense of this at all.

"Were you in the bathroom just now?"

"Where else would I be?"

"I don't know, Mary's room, maybe, or the guest room…" Steve says a little stupidly, because the idea of Danny being in the bathroom with the ferret and not saying anything just isn't computing.

"Why would I be in there, Steve?"

"No, you wouldn't, I mean… didn't you see the ferret?" he asks, feeling more than a little ridiculous. He goes back down the hall, opens the door to the bathroom, and sure enough, no ferret. The bathroom is empty, like nothing ever happened, except that his toiletries are still put away. He goes back to the bedroom. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind, here."

Danny looks sheepish. "Yeah, no. About that… look, it's not how I wanted to tell you…"

"It's yours?" Steve tries to figure out just when Danny managed to not only get a ferret, but somehow smuggle it into his home. "You know they're illegal here, right?"

"No, I don't have a pet –would you just let me explain and not interrupt?"

Steve makes a by-all-means-be-my-guest gesture, and decides that he's probably spending too much time with Danny. Danny who, to his surprise, is blushing crimson.

"See, this is why I didn't want to stay the night. It's –I'm too comfortable around you, okay? And so I let my guard down and I let myself relax, and when that happens I sort of…" he makes a vague circular motion with one hand, rakes the other through his hair. "I change, okay?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

Danny looks like he's bracing himself before a plane lands on him. "It's easier for me to be in my other form," he mumbles, keeping his gaze trained on the floor. "So I switch back when I sleep, or if I'm really relaxed. When I'm awake it's not so bad, but I kind of have to concentrate on it a little bit."

"You're… you… you're telling me you're really a ferret?"

"Technically, the term is therianthrope."

"You're a ferret," Steve repeats, and wonders if pinching himself would help.

Danny rolls his eyes, and says with the air of infinite patience usually associated with explaining things repeatedly to small children, "Yes, Steve, I think we established that."

He shakes his head. "No. No way. I mean, that's not possible. It doesn't exist."

Danny sighs. "Right. Okay, sure. It doesn't exist. Look, it's hard to change back, okay? So try not to freak out, because if you stress me out when I'm changed it'll make it take even longer the next time. You got it?" he points a finger at Steve. "Do not freak out."

Steve swallows. "No freaking out. Got it."

For a moment nothing happens. Danny just closes his eyes, takes a couple of deep breaths, like he's just trying to ground himself after a particularly virulent argument with the phone company or something. Then Steve's whole world changes, right before his eyes. He'll never be able to quite describe what he sees, except as a kind of rippling effect, and the next thing he knows Danny's gone and there's a ferret sitting on top of Danny's boxers, wearing a long-suffering expression.

Steve gapes. "Danny?"

Of course, there's no answer. He doesn't know why he was expecting one, since ferrets don't talk, but then again that's the same logic that tells him people can't turn into ferrets in the first place. It's definitely the same ferret as before: same tawny golden fur, the same eyes –they're pale blue, Steve sees now that he's paying attention. Carefully he moves toward the bed, sits on the edge, and the ferret waddles over the bedclothes and clambers into his lap, stretching up to place its forepaws on his chest, tiny claws scraping a little against his skin, whiskers quivering. In spite of himself, Steve smiles down at it.

"Hi."

The ferret –Danny– makes the same odd sound as before, and pokes him with its nose.

"So I'm sorry I didn't believe you…" Steve hesitates, then carefully runs a hand over the ferret's fur, eliciting another contented noise. It smells musky, a little stronger than he would have guessed, but not unpleasant. "I'm guessing this is a big secret, so, you know, I'm glad you trust me enough to –oh." He almost smacks his forehead when he finally puts it all together. "God, I'm an idiot. Okay, I get it now," he feels his face pull into a grin, the kind that always makes Danny's eyes go soft and crinkle a little at the corners before he calls Steve a goof. He pets Danny's fur some more. "I kind of wish you were human right now, so I could be sure you know what I'm saying, but I get it. I get it, and… and I promise you, you're always going to be safe in this house. You don't have to be anybody except yourself here, okay?"

He still doesn't get an answer, except to have Danny nose along his arm, then nudge him a little bit until he resumes petting him. The ferret settles against his arm with a contented sigh, eyes closing, and doesn't so much as stir when he moves back so he can sit propped up against the pillows on the bed with Danny properly ensconced in his lap. Later on, he thinks, he'll get up and make coffee and maybe they'll be able to talk if Danny changes back. He'd kind of like Danny to explain things a little more in detail –especially how the whole ferret thing worked out with being married to Rachel, for one– but this arrangement works pretty well too, as far as he's concerned.

For now, he's content to just sit with Danny and enjoy their very first Saturday morning in bed together.


End file.
